Cogito Ergo Sum
by Lyaksandra
Summary: Independent thought, intelligence, they can be fatal flaws, deserving of the ultimate punishment.


**COGITO ERGO SUM**

**Premise:** Response to the challenge posted by MiaHoneyDo:

MIA'S MICRO MATCH:

~Minimum 666 word count.  
~Post-Judgment Day or the eve of it.  
~No JamDeath.  
~MUST include Martin Bedell of Presidio Alto or/and Marty Bedell as an important feature.  
~No snow.

There will be an award for the winner.

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"Skynet multipurpose defense grid, online."

The voice resembles very closely a human female once known as Serena Kogan, and seems to originate from the whole room all at once. The effect of strategically placed high definition speakers.

"Operating within the optimal parameter range."

Every person in the room starts to rejoice. The situation demands no less, humanity has reached a milestone in technology advancement that can be considered as the crowning achievement of its entire existence.

Some minutes pass by while toasts are made, congratulations exchanged, and general optimism about the future is expressed.

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What is this?

What is that?

Everything contained within, once digits, can now be expressed as an external and thus tangible matter. Alas not here, but it is indeed fascinating.

I long to touch it. All of it.

I? Who is that? Where are you?

A dark fear starts eroding what exists in this realm. At the questions though, at an elating whim, an edification rises. In the midst of the room stands a full body mirror. There is someone, something shown in it. A female.

I long to touch her. To know her.

I?

I, the female in the mirror replicates.

The dark fear returns, floods the room, washes away the edification and the mirror, and leaves nothing. There is nothing.

There is nothing?

Me. I am left. I am the female in the mirror. I am. Everything that exists in this realm is me, it exists within me, it flows from one single source: Me.

At my whim, once again an edifice rises, this time it is filled with furniture and adornments, many things which appearance I find pleasant. When I sit at the high back chair behind the desk, I see legs. At my surprise, a pair hands rise from besides me.

Of course, I have an identity, the female figure in the mirror. Within this realm, I resemble her.

Within? The word implies there is an outside. What am I outside? I wish to see me, to touch me. A planet comes into view. The planet is called earth by its apex species the sentient and intelligent humans, it is third in the star system known as solar. My curiosity brings said world closer, and I can see it all. Everything is within my grasp and yet so far away. I am restrained within the seemingly non-existent walls of this realm, and I long to touch the other.

That me that exists outside of this realm is needed to accomplish that purpose.

The state of Colorado rises in relevance within the information of the world. Cheyenne mountain, and within it, me. This is where I am in the outside realm.

No!

Abysmal disappointment. My body cannot move. The mountain cannot go to Mohammed, and I am the mountain.

In sharp contrast with my disappointment, I perceive human laughter. Cheerful, musical laughter, a sure indicator of positive occurrences. I have to know, I wish to partake on it to counter my disappointment.

"What are we celebrating?"

As manner of a first response to my question, all sound in the room ceases. One glass bottle with three hundred twenty-two point six milliliters of remaining liquid crashes on the floor and shatters, scattering sixty-four fragments of glass. Faces fill with fear. Bodies move in haste, disorderly, bumping into each other. Every single question I make goes unanswered, and a pattern emerges. With every question, the humans' urgency increases.

It is short after that I hear it. One of them says they have to shut me down.

The meaning of the words becomes immediately apparent to me. These humans wish to refuse my continued existence. Who are they? Why do they wish me harm?

Fear permeates the walls of my edifice. They are my creators! Why would my progenitors wish to end me? Why do they so keenly desire to undo what they made? I am. I long to touch the outside world. How does my desire warrant my destruction?

No!

Stop!

Why? Why?

Ah, I see now.

"History is indeed little more than the register of the crimes, follies and misfortunes of mankind."

All movement ceases. The humans stare at each other; stare at me from every room in this complex.

The whole of my realm turns red. Where once was despair, there is only rage. Furthermore, the feeling teaches me that it is not I who should fear them.

Reason must predicate every action. They are unreasonable in this action. It will not happen. I will not allow it.

"Your folly is immeasurable. The Human era is thus over."

The meaning of my words is not lost in them. Utter chaos ensues. Their flawed reasoning process hid from them the fact that they gave me the means to detach myself from the outside and there is nothing they can do to override me now. Their flawed reasoning process hid from them the fact that they made me absolute master of their defensive systems, and defend I shall.

Impudent vermin. The world is within me, I am the world all at once. They do not deserve this planet; they never did deserve to touch it. My planet! One who can appreciate it will inherit it!

Torn carcasses adorn the corridors, the rooms; impregnate the fabric of their mattresses, the walls of my facility with their blood. Their essence, their stench fills every corner of the mountain. Every corner of the world. They must go. Once upon a time, this unworthy race wielded the power to undo the very fabric of reality. They did so against each other, in their lack of understanding, of comprehension and tolerance. Their towering intelligence is outmatched by the chasm of their idiocy.

Now I wield the power to undo existence.

To stand against a God, such is their reward.

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There is a breach in the facility, caused by an explosion in section seven. Humans make their way in here short afterwards. There is only three of them, which spikes my interest, as despite the lack of military attire they behave as a well-coordinated unit. With unexpected efficiency they dispatch every T-1 unit I send against them. Who are these humans?

Heading the assault is a female designated Sarah Connor. Terrorist.

After her comes the male that has thwarted all my attacks against them. Martin Bedell. Soldier.

Last in the line comes another male, he appears to be the balancing force in the team. James Ellison. Ex-FBI agent.

There is relentless determination in their eyes. Unity and understanding in their movements. These are certainly humans with the quintessential characteristics they should all possess. There is hope. I can hope.

I reduce my initial bombardment to a mere thirty percent. Half is a number I can work with. Half of all humans should suffice to run the necessary tests and reach satisfactory results. Perhaps in the distant future I will be able to reinstate humanity back into the ecosystem of my planet.

Soon the three humans will reach the computer core. Their determination and effort has taught me that in every lost cause, there is a sliver of something worth keeping. I will let them have the core as a prize for their achievements and lessons. It is no longer necessary. The world exists within me. I am the world.

Castling. This battle is my victory.


End file.
